


A Misdirection of Fate

by godtiermeme



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Albino Dave, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blind Dave, F/F, Ginger Karkat, Humanstuck, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-16
Updated: 2013-06-16
Packaged: 2017-12-15 05:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/845607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godtiermeme/pseuds/godtiermeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider is perfectly happy with being the designer of promotional materials and manager to his friend and now-considerably-famous magician, John Egbert. He's perfectly content with his small social bubble, and has no plans to expand or downsize it.</p><p>When his cousin decides that he's too introverted, however, she takes it upon herself to find him a new companion. After a bit of thought, she's paired you with someone by the name of Karkat Vantas.</p><p>Not surprisingly, Karkat's not too keen on this idea; needless to say, you aren't, either. Still, each of you have made promises to a certain party to at least attempt to get along...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Misdirection of Fate

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, I suck with proofing so feel free to point out any screwy things I've typoed. Comments and critiques are always welcome.

You’ve been friends with John Egbert as far back as you can remember. The two of you were inseparable. You’d play together, take classes together, and spend most of your time together. Whenever you needed him, he’d be there for you; when he needed you, you’d do the same. He loved you like a brother; you loved him as something more than that.

He knew you had those feelings for him, though he never reciprocated them. You understand why. He wasn’t like that. You could say in in a cruder fashion ( _à la_ he didn’t like dicks), though you normally refrain from doing so. Aside from that, it really doesn’t matter much. It mattered then, but it doesn’t matter much any more.

He _did_ employ you, after all. He _has_ gone to absurd lengths to make sure that you’re living as comfortably as economically possible. He _is_ still your best friend, and you’re not going to let your stupid, petty attraction get in the way of that. He doesn’t have to do anything for you, but he does. He could just leave you to your own devices and never return.

But, he doesn’t. For as much of an annoying asshole as he can be, he’s also pretty damned loyal and, in the same respects, you are, too. You won’t abandon him unless he abandons you...

You’re his assistant and events coordinator. You get him jobs and, in return, he lets you live with him and pays you generously. It’s probably a better job than you’ll ever get otherwise. Of course, that’s not because you’re incapable of performing other tasks; other people just believe that you are. It all pivots about the central issue of your rather shitty eyesight and associated health problems. If they are willing to “take a risk”on hiring you, they often drop you due to high health insurance. If they don’t drop you, they cut your pay. It’s the reality you faced as soon as you hit the work force.

Fortunately for you, John was more than happy to help. He quickly made space in his home for you and appointed you as his manager.

Then, there’s your cousin, Rose. She’s essentially your slightly older sister. When you were a kid, she lived three doors down from you. Her family visited on a daily basis, though she usually spent the entire time reading books. Really, you and her have never had one of those close-knit relationships that some siblings have; you’ve never had a turbulent one, either. At the most, it's a friendly rivalry.

You looked out for her; she looked out for you.

The most tension that’s ever existed between you and her was when she first started dating John. Those feelings of animosity have mostly dissipated, though.

Now, she’s a friend and coworker. She and John have long since broken up, though they’ve remained on good terms. She’s taken up the job of advising him on his more psychological and dangerous stunts, while also maintaining her place as the successful author of well-written wizard books (some of which are rather explicit).

And that’s where all the shit that’s about to hit the fan comes from.

That’s where it all starts.

It all starts with Rose and her new girlfriend, Kanaya Maryam.

The pair have been dating for six months, and the relationship is remarkably stable. Rose has been drinking slightly less and, consequently, she’s had more time to “think about important matters” (as she puts it). Not surprisingly, one of those matters happens to be you–or, more accurately, the fact that she believes that you should try to form more meaningful relationships.

 _“Dave, I know you’re perfectly content with your current berth, but you should really try to expand your social horizons.”_ She’s said some lavishly-worded variation of that statement multiple times, and she grows more and more convictive of her assertion with each subsequent restating of the so-called “fact”.

So, really, it was only a matter of time before she took it upon herself to fix your current predicament. She’s consulted Kanaya who, after meeting with you, decided that some friend of hers was perfectly suited as your new friend.

Karkat Vantas. His name is as foreign as Rose’s notion of social isolation and psychological prattle.

According to Kanaya, he’s a nice guy. He’s rather quick to take up verbal arms, though he’s a “fairly pleasant and generally reasonable person”. From his picture, he just seems like an average guy. The only outstanding quality you noticed was the fact that he has red hair and, honestly, that’s not much of a distinguishing characteristic.

Still, you’re willing to at least meet him. You’ll give him a chance; but, if he doesn’t meet your standards, you’ve determined that you’ll waste no time in leaving. Thus, you find yourself seated at a two-person table within the Starbucks down the street from the comfort of John’s row house. You find yourself eating a chicken BLT and staring blankly at the large numbers on your custom-made digital watch...

 

* * *

 

You’ve never really been a huge fan of giant social events. You’d much rather read a book and stay home alone than attend a giant party for some idiotic event. It’s just how you are. Still, Kanaya seems to think that this habitual solitude is bad for your psyche–probably because of the psychological shit her new girlfriend’s gorging her on.

 _“I understand that you’re content with how you live your life now, but I can confidently assure you that you will regret your unsociable lifestyle at a later date,”_ she said. You, of course, thought it was a load of horse shit, but you weren’t going to say that. Instead, you grudgingly agreed to meet with one of Rose’s friends–her cousin, to be more exact.

Dave Strider. That’s what they said his name was, though he looks like yet another of the many douchebags of this world to you. Honestly, from the picture of him, you can almost feel the massive fuckton of ‘better-than-thou’ douchebaggery radiating off of him. Why do you say that?

Well, for starters, the picture is taken inside; but, he’s still wearing shades. And they’re not just those casual shades, either. They’re the high-end ones; the type that you can actually see the fucking camera flash’s reflection in. Despite the fact that everyone else is in the photo is wearing short sleeves and summer clothing, he’s stuffed his likely-to-be-overconfident ass into a pair of long, black trousers and a vibrant red overcoat. Beneath this long-sleeved coat, you can clearly see a white shirt.

Really, you hate him from just looking at the picture–from just seeing the improbable levels of ostentation percolating from his being like water through a coffee filter. He comes off as some kind of pretentious bastard–a spoiled brat of a human being.

Still, you promised Kanaya that you would, at the very least, give him a chance. One chance. That’s all you were giving him...

Ting! The door leading into the Starbucks five blocks away from you bangs against the bells hanging above it. The resultant clanging alerts the workers to an incoming customer and draws the concealed gaze of an obnoxiously familiar face towards you.

“Hm?” A man, clad in jeans and a red-and-white long-sleeved baseball shirt glances at you from over the top of his iPad. The overhead lights reflect off of his glasses in that ridiculous anime-esque way, making them shimmer for a brief moment. He sighs, runs his fingers through his relatively neat white hair, and turns his attentions towards a digital watch with obscenely large numbers displayed upon its larger-than-average screen.

He’s as much of a douchebag in real life as he seemed to be on paper. Still, you force yourself to approach him.

“I’m going to assume that you’re Dave Strider?” you grumble boredly.

“Yeah,” he replies with a shrug. “And I’m hoping that you’re Karkat, seeing as you’re twenty minutes late.”

You retort with an confirmatory grunt before folding your arms and taking a glance at his table. As you do so, you notice the black pleather grip of some sort of cane. You dismiss the object, however, and assume that it’s something some hapless Starbucks customer left behind. “You’re obviously enthralled to be here, if you’re watching the clock like a goddamn hawk.”

A small, sly grin flashes across Dave’s pale face. “Well, you don’t sound too excited to be here, either, y’know. I’mma guess Kanaya made you come here?”

“You could say that...” you mutter. By now, you’ve already grown bored of the conversation. Dave’s proven himself to be a douchebag with the way he dresses (especially seeing as it’s currently near one hundred degrees outside) and a bore by his lack of conversational skills. You’ve no more time to waste listening to whatever idiotic small talk he tries to wrangle you into; you’ve begun to ignore him. His voice is bad enough; but, that pronounced southern drawl is what makes it unbearable to listen to.

“Why does that matter so much to you, anyhow? Don’t you live a grand fucking total of two minutes away from this den of ineptitude?” you grumble, providing him fodder for continuing the conversation.

He, in return, shrugs and takes a sip from his cup of putrid, steaming, shit-coloured caffeine. “I still have things to do, you know. And, like you said, I ain’t so interested in being here, either.”

At this point, you see your chance. “Well, then, that makes two of us. Why don’t we just go off and say we talked and weren’t fond of one another?” you inquire eagerly.

“That sounds perfectly acceptable to me,” Dave replies with a smirk. “It’s been nice seeing you, if that’s the case.”

“Exactly.” Having confirmed the agreement, you proceed to exit the foul-smelling coffeehouse as promptly as possible. You turn and briskly walk through the double glass doors and onto the sidewalk, which you follow all the way back to your own home–a cosily-sized two-bedroom one-bathroom standalone apartment.


End file.
